


Carnage

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: Banned Together Bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Banned Together Bingo, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Drug Use, F/M, Grief, Prompt Fill, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: AU in which Chloe dies from being poisoned.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Banned Together Bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916230
Kudos: 27
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Carnage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Banned Together Bingo 2020 square "Death Issues."
> 
> I ripped my soul into pieces for this. Cry with me.

Amenadiel fought off the security guards, holding them at bay. Lucifer hardly noticed. The floor beneath his feet did not exist, the bed in which Chloe lay was just another hazy piece of reality.

Dead.

She was dead.

Lucifer sobbed, holding her body. His sobs turned into screams, and the guards stood there, watching his suffering.

Trixie came. She curled up with Lucifer and Chloe, sobbing, holding on to her mommy, holding on to Lucifer.

They tried to take her body away.

Lucifer snarled at them all, flaring his eyes that wonderful bright red. Feeling the power of him they broke down in sobs, they backed away, they begged for mercy.

Amenadiel closed the door and stood guard outside.

Trixie’s sobs quieted, but Lucifer was still shaking.

“Is my mommy… is my mommy in—in a good place?” Trixie asked.

Lucifer knew the answer as soon as it was asked. The bright light that had been inserted into his life, his partner, his friend, his true connection to this world he had so flagrantly decided to wander and inhabit, had departed. Though he held her body, though he felt the emptiness of it, he couldn’t let go. Yes, he knew her soul had gone, but this was _her_ body. This had been her connection to the physical realm. This was her home. This was where her soul had been lovingly housed since her birth over thirty years ago. This was what had grown, and cultivated, and allowed her soul to flourish. This was Chloe, just as much as her soul had been. This had been her home.

The agony of her—her… death… was an aoristic blackness within whatever it was that made celestial beings tick.

Suddenly remembering the child’s presence, he answered, caressing her head, finding himself _connected_ to her, of all things. “She’s in a perfect place,” Lucifer somehow managed to answer without a sob. “Your mommy…”—he inhaled sharply, tears spilled free—”your mommy is—was… _hmm-mm_ … a great person. A wonderful person. The best,” he finished in a soft murmur, meant only for ears that could no longer hear him.

And he hadn’t told her, hadn’t shown her. He’d spent nearly every day with her for a year, yet he hadn’t… He’d tried… Why hadn’t he…?

It was too late now.

“I know, I _know_ that where she is, she is not suffering.”

“But you’re not with her,” Trixie reasoned, still cuddled up at her mother’s side. “And I’m not with her.”

Lucifer managed to look down at Trixie, and though he saw Detective Espinoza in her he saw Chloe too. He saw her in the brilliance that shone through even through grief. Saw it in the fine, delicate strands of her hair; the angular, yet soft, shape of her chin, and jaw. Saw it in her hairline. Saw it in her very smile. This summoned another sob, and of all things, he pulled her close.

“You’re right, Monkey,” he found himself saying.

That was when the door burst open, and Dan ran in, and he fell to his knees, holding Chloe’s hand, screaming.

They mourned a great woman.

Lucifer was throwing the biggest of parties at Lux. Jay Gatsby would have been green with envy. There were women in revealing clothing, men in fancy get-ups. Alcohol, and the warm smell of human bodies percolated the air. Lucifer lost track of what he drank, and how much he drank. He lost track of how many men and women he’d kissed and groped, and ground against.

He lost track of how much he’d taken. Cocaine, ecstasy, meth, LSD… Were Chloe around he’d drop dead. Were she around he… he wouldn’t need to do this.

But now he needed to. It was the only way to drown it all out. The only way to hide from the truth he’d felt since he’d first saved her life.

The feelings he’d had for her ran deep; through his veins, his marrow, his celestial being. There were human words for it, words he was desperately trying to forget. Perhaps it was all a vain attempt, but he couldn’t stop.

Night after night, he drank, he snorted whatever was available, he partied. He slept with tens of people, not even sure if his partners were finding true satisfaction.

Lucifer was surely never satisfied. Sure, he reached his end many times, but it was with an emptiness.

“I’m worried about you,” Amenadiel said.

Lucifer’s brother had come to his penthouse to—what? Be a good brother? Try to be God’s greatest son? To try and share in an agony he could never understand?

Lucifer picked up the bottle he was drinking from, not even sure what was in it. He laughed before taking a long pull.

“Funny,” Lucifer commented, the syllables of his speech slurring together. “Didn’t know you cared.”

“I take responsibility for putting her in your path.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Lucifer’s eyes, and there was a pinch in his sinuses between his eyes. His throat ached. He kept his mouth firmly closed, knowing that if he opened it, all kinds of indignities would fall from it.

“So you’re owning up to your wrongdoing. How _noble_ of you,” Lucifer growled. “Perhaps you could have done it earlier, perhaps you could have _fixed it_!” He stood, swayed, but he decided he would not sit back down. His vision doubled, but he held his ground. “You did what Father wanted! You couldn’t defy him even for one measly second. And you know what that got her? It got her dead! She’s dead because you made sure she was here. She’s dead because of our father. You—both of you… I. _Hate. You._ ”

“Luci, you don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do. Now, you got what you wanted. I’ll willingly go back to Hell. This isn’t my home anymore.”

“Luci—”

Lucifer screamed, throwing the glass bottle full of he-didn’t-even-know. It missed Amenadiel, but smashed into a section of intricately carved stone wall near his balcony. Alcohol splashed, and dripped, and glass _crack_ ed.

“Are you happy now?” Lucifer snarled. “Was this your plan all along?”

Amenadiel walked towards him, and Lucifer grabbed a knife lying on the glass end table beside his leather seat. He didn’t know what he planned on doing with it, but he felt secure holding onto it, as if it was his lifeline.

“You know it wasn’t.”

“Well, guess it all worked out for you anyway.” He laughed, gesturing around him, knife swinging out. “You took the greatest thing I cared about away from me, and all this?” Lucifer approached Amenadiel, face contorted with agony, fury. “It doesn’t even matter anymore! _Nothing_ matters, because… because she’s not _here_.” He grabbed the back of Amenadiel’s head, and put the knife to his throat. It would do nothing, probably just be a slight pinch were he to try and slice him open. Yet he had to do this. He had to hold on. “She was my _home_ ,” Lucifer admitted, voice cracking. Tears spilled down his face, and he openly sobbed. “After all my millennia of existence, a human became the most important thing to me. She was, you know. She was the best. She was—she was what _I_ wanted to be.”

“And would she want you to be this?”

Lucifer’s already weak lifeline snapped. He fell back, dropping the knife.

“Get out,” Lucifer murmured.

“Luci—”

“Get. Out!”

“I’m trying to help you, brother,” Amenadiel reasoned.

“And I don’t want it!” Lucifer cried. “I have _never_ wanted it! You can’t fix this! _No one_ can fix this.”

“Time will—”

“Time will—what? Heal my wounds? Cleanse the festering agonies within me? Make me _feel better_? Know this, brother. There is no coming back from this. There is no healing. Chloe is _gone_ , she is gone, and I…”

He collapsed to his knees.

“She was one human.”

“She was _everything_!”

“You can let go, in time.”

“No. _No._ You don’t understand. You don’t _understand_!”

“And why not?”

“Because you. Just. Don’t,” Lucifer growled out. “You don’t. You never will.”

“Then _help me_ to understand.”

“Get out. I don’t need you here.”

“Luci, why are you not even trying to let go? I’ve seen you heal from darker things than this.”

“Oh, have you?” he asked in a quiet voice, a voice so rough and low and cold that it spoke of danger. Darkness. Evil, perhaps. “Then perhaps you’ll know to leave me alone.”

“Brother—”

“ _I loved her!_ ” he screamed, not knowing the words had wanted to be free from the iron chains he’d put them in. “I _loved_ Detective Chloe Decker, and I never even told her. She died not knowing how much I cared, how special and important she was to me—to everyone she’d ever known. I loved her.”

Amenadiel tried to approach, and Lucifer glared him away. Silent tears wetted his face, running down his chin, his neck, soaking into the fabric of his silk robe. His brother made to leave. The elevator doors opened, but then he stopped, and he assured, voice so soft, so infuriatingly kind, “I will be back, because I love you, Luci. Because I will not see you destroy yourself.”

Amenadiel left.

Lucifer laughed. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed. He laughed till he wasn’t sure whether he was truly laughing or if he was continuing his bout of crying.

 _Amenadiel. What an idiot. What a_ dullard _._

Air wouldn’t move through his lungs. Blood rushed in his ears, blood he wished was still and cold. Carnage lay all around him.

Lucifer was already destroyed.


End file.
